Long Way Home by Neve Cottrell Read Free Book Online

wouldn’t I?” Shaking her head, she said, “What am I thinking? You don’t bake. Too domestic for you. That’s Betsy’s domain.”
    Alexis refused to engage in an argument over her culinary skills. It didn’t seem the right time. Instead, she said, “I had one of her muffins. It was delicious. She should have a bakery instead of a salon. That’s what she used to talk about.”
    “The salon was the more sensible choice,” Tilly said firmly. “People need to get haircuts. They don’t need baked goods.”
    Alexis thought it was disappointing that her sister hadn’t been able to combine her talent with her career, but she didn’t argue.
    Tilly sighed. “She does have a knack for baking, though. Such a shame she has those three boys.”
    Alexis’s eyebrows drew together until her mother’s meaning dawned on her. She gave an exasperated huff, which her mother duly ignored.
    “She can certainly teach the boys how to bake,” Alexis insisted. “I bet Owen would love it.”
    “Oh, Alexis. I don’t know where you get your ideas. Joe would blow a gasket if he saw his son baking.”
    “Do you know how prehistoric that sounds?”
    “We can’t all be cosmopolitan.” Tilly headed for the door. “I’ll be downstairs for another half an hour if you need me. Then I’m going to work.”
    Alexis waited for her mother to leave the room before pulling the covers back over her head. She was not ready to face the day. In fact, she was beginning to regret her decision to come at all.

Chapter Five
    Betsy wasted no time arranging a brunch at the weekend so that Alexis could meet the rest of her family. The house was in absolute chaos. Owen set up a puppet show in the corner of the family room, quietly practicing with his puppets while Joey stood in front of the Christmas tree periodically reaching out to touch the ornaments and then repeating to himself, “No touching.” Joe, Betsy’s burly husband, sat in his usual spot, the easy chair. Whether consciously or not, Betsy managed to marry a version of her father. No small wonder the two men were close.
    Brian, the seven-year-old, bounced a ball around the room and peppered Alexis with Brian-centric questions.
    “Do you know what I want for Christmas?” he asked in a rapid-fire clip. To Alexis, Brian seemed to be on a perpetual sugar high.
    “No, I can’t say that I do.”
    “Guess.”
    “She doesn’t want to guess, Brian.” Joe listened to his son with one ear and the television with the other.
    “No, I’ll guess.” She pretended to think. “A pony.”
    Brian rolled his eyes. “Do I look like a girl to you?”
    “Okay then. A GI Joe.”
    “What’s a GI Joe?” He continued to bounce the ball, unwilling or unable to stop moving. “You suck at this.”
    “Brian!” Joe admonished him. “I told you before, don’t talk like that.”
    “You talk like that,” Brian spat back.
    “And when you work and pay the bills, you can talk like that, too.”
    Brian remained unfazed by his father’s rough demeanor, while Alexis cringed.
    “Did you buy me a present?” Brian pressed his aunt.
    “I haven’t finished my shopping yet. What would you like?”
    “A scooter, silver with black trim. No goofy characters.”
    Alexis digested this onslaught of information with a vague smile. “Noted.”
    “I asked Santa, but I don’t know if he’ll be able to bring it.”
    “Oh, why not?”
    “My mom said sometimes Santa has so much stuff for other kids, he can’t fit everything in his sleigh so he has to choose carefully.”
    Alexis nodded silently. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Joey pull an ornament off the tree.
    “Daddy, Joey pulled another ornament off the tree.” Brian ratted out his brother before Alexis could speak.
    “No touching, Joey,” Joe said firmly, but without raising his voice. He eased out of his chair and gently guided Joey away from the tree. Alexis was surprised to hear him speak to his son in clear, calm tones, not at all the